by any other name would still taste as good? You bet.
A few weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to spend a few days in College Station with my friend and her 103 year old precious Hungarian grandmother. We did the usual things we do when we get together – talk, laugh, drink red wine, translate Hungarian recipes to English. Well…maybe that last one isn’t usually on our list, but she has her grandmother’s original handwritten cookbooks from Hungary. The only glitch was that neither of us could read Hungarian. Good thing we had the internet and the free translators!
Once we figured out that csirke kar wasn’t a chicken lever arm, but a chicken wing, Continue reading